“Would you m-mind very m-much?”
A muscle at the corner of the Earl’s mouth twitched, but he answered with only the suspicion of a tremor in his voice: “I shall be happy to oblige you, ma’am, to the best of my poor endeavour.”
“Thank you very m-much,” said Horatia seriously. “Then he and Lizzie can be m-married, you see. And you will tell Mama that you would just as soon have me, won’t you?”
“I may not phrase it quite like that,” said the Earl, “but I will endeavour to make the matter plain to her. But I do not entirely see how I am to propose this exchange without divulging your visit to me.”
“Oh, you need not m-mind that!” said Horatia cheerfully. “I shall tell her m-myself. I think I had b-better go now. No one knows where I am, and perhaps they m-may wonder.”
“We will drink to our bargain first, do you not think?” said the Earl, and picked up a small gilt handbell, and rang it.
A lackey came in answer to the bell. “You will bring me—” the Earl glanced at Horatia—“ratafia, and two glasses,” he said. “And my coach will be at the door within ten minutes.”
“If—if the c-coach is for me,” said Horatia, “it is only a step to South Street, sir.”
“But I would rather that you permitted me to convey you,” said his lordship.
The butler brought the ratafia himself, and set the heavy silver tray down on a table. He was dismissed with a nod, and went regretfully. He would have liked to see with his own eyes my lord drink a glass of ratafia.